It's May. Teachers, I need you to hear me:
I'm with you. I am one of you. I know you are in the last sprint to that finish line and you are doing your best jig to keep those kids learning and engaged to the bitter end. Solidarity, sisters.
That said, we parents, we are dragging these children to the finish line, too. And frankly, we are dragging ourselves. We used up the very best we had left to give celebrating you last week. We did it gladly because we love you. You love our babies well and manage to teach them how to be good people and squeeze in some math along the way. You are rock stars.
We are out, now, though. So, when our children come home all excited about needing poster board for one more project, we will trek to the store to procure said poster board, but we will curse your name the entire way there. We will stand with our children at the island tea staining said poster board to look like an authentic wanted poster--for the lungs--but we will lack the enthusiasm such a poster might have inspired in September. We will even dutifully help our child burn the edges to look even more authentic, but we are silently burning inside.
Can we all please agree that it's May. Let's just read something fun and play some number games. But no more projects. Please. I'm begging you.